For, alas! alas! with me
The light of Life is o'er!
'No more- no more- no more-'
(Such language holds the solemn sea
To the sands upon the shore)
Shall bloom the thunder-blasted tree
Or the stricken eagle soar!

And all my days are trances
And all my nightly dreams
Are where thy dark eye glances
And where thy footstep gleams-
In what ethereal dances,
By what eternal streams.
- Sad Love Poem
by Edgar Allen Poe